


All That's Left After Glory

by thisothererin



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-23
Updated: 2014-09-23
Packaged: 2018-02-18 12:45:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2348885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisothererin/pseuds/thisothererin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a war things are never quite the same.  The losses were too many, and the memories too awful.  Everyone had lost something, someone, or someplace.  It was up to those who were left to build something new.  Fereldens, if they were old enough to have fought in the war against Orlais, knew that more than most.  Teagan, who had been too young to even remember what he had lost, had a more difficult time accepting that reality.  </p><p>Or, Teagan learns to live after the Blight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All That's Left After Glory

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for the 2014 Dragon Age Reverse Big Bang, and was inspired by chenria's [wonderful artwork](http://chenria.deviantart.com/art/DARBB-Red-Poppies-484138414). Her artwork gave me so much inspiration, and I had so much fun writing this. 
> 
> I need to give a huge thanks to my beta, [asongforjuliet](http://asongforjuliet.tumblr.com), who read this over despite having very little knowledge of Dragon Age. She was wonderful in the face of all my anxious questions. Any mistakes left are definitely my own and due to my complete inability to stop tinkering with scenes. 
> 
> **Warnings:** Canonical Character Death. Brief Mention of Canon Typical Violence, Brief Mentions of Grotesque Imagery 
> 
> Further description of the Warnings can be found in the End Notes.

_Nothing ever ends poetically.  It ends and we turn it into poetry.  All that blood was never once beautiful.  It was just red._

_~ Kait Rokowski_

 

*

 

“Hold this position,” Eamon had said to Teagan before leaving him and his smaller segment of Redcliffe troops in a corner of the Palace District and heading towards Fort Drakon.  Teagan had known what that meant.  They were going to back the Warden against the Archdemon and it was now his job to make sure no darkspawn got past his troops to overwhelm them.

It wasn’t a perfect plan for a multitude of reason.  The main one being that Teagan and his men held only one of the staircases in the Palace District, and they were barely holding on to that one as it was. Teagan’s hand shook slightly around the grip of his sword.  He wasn’t old, like some of the men who had fought in the war against Orlais, but he wasn’t young either; willpower would only carry him so far.  Exhaustion had long ago set in and the horde they faced just kept coming.  His men did not look as if they were faring any better.  The only good thing Teagan could have said was that despite those odds they had only lost a few men. 

They had a small moment of rest before Tegan spotted another troop of darkspawn making their way towards them.  “We cannot let them get to Fort Drakon,” he called out to his men.  “The Warden needs all the time we can give her.”

The air around him was heavy with the stench of death; smoke from the burning buildings, mud, grime, and blood all mixed together into one noxious, pervasive thing.  He tried not to fixate on it, instead holding himself at the ready.  _Just one more troop_ , he told himself.  _Just get through one more troop._   He’d told himself that for the past four troops they had faced.

Teagan could make out the cruel twist of grins on the faces of some of the darkspawn at the front of the group.  His lip curled in disgust.  The creatures seemed to revel in death.  His hand clenched around the hilt of his sword just shy of too tight and then raised his sword up halfway to signal the archers.  The sound of bowstrings being pulled taut filled the air a second before he said, “Archers, at the ready.”

 _One more.  Just one more._ He waited until the first line of monsters –and there really was no other term more accurate for the darkspawn then that- reached the top of the stairs before swinging his arm down.  “Now!”

Arrows flew through the air.  Some hit hard enough to knock their targets back into the second row of darkspawn, effectively disrupting their approach.  Teagan saw an arrow hit one of the tall ones right in the middle of the forehead, instantly killing the beast. 

“That’s for Redcliffe you ugly piece of shite!”  He could not see which of the archers had shouted as he refused to take his gaze away from the momentarily stalled darkspawn.  The men around him cheered in response, and Teagan supposed the sentiment would do well enough as a motivator.  They needed to strike quick while the darkspawn were still recovering from the first volley of arrows. 

Teagan raised his sword in the air once more, this time higher to signal a charge.  “For Redcliffe,” he bellowed before running, once again, head first into battle.

 

*

 

When a bright light shot up from the top of Fort Drakon it felt like hours had passed.  The darkspawn around them began to flee and Teagan realized what it must have meant. 

“They did it,” he murmured, only just stopping himself from collapsing under the weight of his relief and exhaustion.  He couldn’t falter yet.  Gathering what remained of his strength, Teagan turned to address his men.  “We march to Fort Drakon.  Slay any darkspawn that crosses our path.”

_It’s almost over._

 

*

 

Teagan didn’t remember most of what happened after that.  Hours of battle had worn him down until he was more a flesh and blood vessel for survival instinct than a man capable of thought and reason.  Luckily for him there wasn’t a strong need for anything other than the death of the darkspawn they encountered on their march to Fort Drakon.

The things he clearly remembered were this:

The ground of Fort Drakon covered in the corpses of friend and foe alike.  Trying –and failing- to take comfort in the fact that most of the bodies were those of foes.

The exhausted look on Eamon’s face when he and his troops finally emerged from the fort.

The familiar gleam of Grey Warden armor coming from a makeshift cot that two Redcliffe soldiers carried near the back of the group.  Realizing that Adessa was standing next to her mage companion, Wynne, so there was only one person it could possibly be.

The sound of the Adessa’s voice as she choked out, “he struck the killing blow.”  Knowing from the way her face contorted, clearly attempting to stop herself from crying, that she found no comfort in that fact.

 _Alistair’s face looks so pale_ , Teagan thought, stuck somewhere in between shock and denial. 

 

*

 

Adessa looked like she was about to say something to him but suddenly looked down.  Teagan glanced over his should to see what had given her pause and saw Eamon approaching them.  His smile is brittle when he finally reached them.  “Warden.  It would do the troops some good to hear it from you.”

Wynne’s eyes narrowed in anger.  Unmoved by her obvious protectiveness of the warden, Eamon didn’t waver under her harsh glare.  Her hands clenched and for a second Teagan thought Wynne might actually slap Eamon, but then Adessa laid a hand on the mage’s shoulder.  “Of course, Arl Eamon,” Adessa said, sending him a polite smile.  “I will address them in a moment.” 

Hands still clenched at her side Wynne didn’t seem any happier about Eamon’s request, but some of the tension in her body had eased.  Adessa looked at her and shrugged.  She squeezed the other woman’s arm softly and then moved to approach the troops.  As soon as she had moved their other companion, Zevran, had moved to take her place.  “She will be fine,” he said lowly. 

Teagan wasn’t so sure he agreed with that statement, and watched nervously as Adessa approached the troops.  Taking a longer look at her, he wouldn’t have blamed Wynne if she actually had struck Eamon.  Adessa looked worse than most of them.  Her bright red hair was falling out of its tight braid and her face was covered in splotches of partly dried blood.  If he looked closely Teagan was sure he could also see the evidence of where tears had run down her face and through those patches of blood.

Every gaze in the area shifted to the warden and the nervous chatter stopped as she moved to the top of the stairs.  It was the quietest it had been all day.  As she looked out at the faces of the Redcliffe soldiers, Teagan thought she might be procrastinating.  Allowing herself a couple more moments to pull herself together.  It didn’t matter.  Teagan was fairly sure she could say nothing for half an hour and still command every soldier’s attention.  The people of Redcliffe knew how much they owed her.  Before long all of Ferelden would know how much they owed her too.

“The Archdemon is dead,” Adessa finally said, and Teagan was surprised that her previously wrecked voice came out strong and even.  “The Blight is over.” 

It was palpable, the way her words sent a surge of energy through the soldiers.  They had gone to battle with the horde and come out the other side of it alive.  Cheers sounded all around.  Teagan looked down at Alistair’s pale face and thought he might throw up.

Would anyone know how much they owed him?  The bastard son of King Maric.  The one who killed the Archdemon.  A Grey Warden, but not the one people talked about. 

Lost in his own grief, Teagan flinched when a hand touched his shoulder.  Realizing it was most likely just Eamon he relaxed under the weight of the armored hand.  He took a deep breath in, allowing it to anchor him to the present before turning around.  When he looked over he saw that it was Adessa, not Eamon, whose hand rested on his shoulder.

It was more difficult facing the weight of her grief from this close.  He barely had a handle of his own, but he could practically feel the weight of hers settling next to his own in the middle of his chest when her light brown eyes glazed over with tears.  “I’m sorry,” she said.  It took Teagan a moment realize that she was apologizing for Alistair’s death.  “I’m so sorry.” 

“Adessa…”  He trailed off not sure how to word what he wanted to say.  Every time he tried to piece something together the weight of Alistair’s death seemed to smash it to bits.  He couldn’t tell her it was okay, because how could the loss of Alistair ever be okay.  He was kind, and genuine, and far too young to not be here anymore.

Adessa’s face crumpled at his silence.  It looked as if she was about to lose whatever composure she had pulled together before addressing the soldiers.  Her eyes darted in a panicked look around the gathered soldiers.  She obviously did not want them to see her like this, so Teagan stopped thinking and simply acted.  He pulled her into a tight hug, turning so that his body blocked her from the sight of the soldiers.  “It’s not your fault,” he said holding her face against his chest as she let out a choked sob.

He looked up towards her companions, trying to gauge their reaction.  They had traveled with her during the Blight, surely they would know how to comfort her better than Teagan.  Zevran simply kept his gaze fixed to the ground around his feet.  When he glanced over to Wynne she was looking at Alistair’s body, face inscrutable.

Not knowing what else to do, Teagan simply held her close and repeated himself.

“It’s not your fault.”

 

*

 

In the days that followed, most people said that the Battle of Denerim was a glorious victory.  Many more called the Grey Wardens heroes. 

Although Teagan wholeheartedly agreed with the second, nothing got under his skin quicker than the first.  There had been nothing glorious about The Battle of Denerim.  Anytime someone who hadn’t even been there talked about glory, he had to fight not to say something rude.  They couldn’t have known that the mere mention of the battle called up images of brutalized dead bodies that lined the street, or that even days later Teagan thought he could still smell the scent of burning wood mingled with dead flesh and sweat, or that every night since when he tried to sleep he could still hear the screams of the civilians who hadn’t gotten out quick enough and he could see Alistair lying dead on the cot outside Fort Drakon.

They couldn’t have known that, so Teagan said nothing.  Just gritted his teeth and nodded politely.

The worst, however, was not what people were saying but who they left out.  Alistair was dead, had died protecting everyone in this Maker forsaken country and no one outside of a few people seemed to care.  It was a different Grey Warden’s name on everyone else’s lips. 

“He died a hero,” Eamon told him.  And for Eamon, someone who had fought in and lived through the war with Orlais, maybe that was enough; that Alistair had died well.  But for Teagan the sentiment fell flat. 

He would have preferred a sort of nephew to a dead hero any day.

 

*

 

When Alistair had come to Redcliffe all those months ago, Teagan had thought it was his second chance.  Surely the Maker had guided Alistair there so Teagan could make amends.  And there was so much he had to make amends for: not saying anything about how Isolde treated him, not fighting harder when Eamon decided to send him to the Chantry, not visiting him once he’d been sent away.

He’d thought he could make things right, but no amount of time spent carefully piecing together a silver amulet could do that now.

But then Teagan noticed the stiff way Adessa held herself during Anora’s coronation.  She looked like a woman going into battle again rather than one receiving accolades.  He could see that her eyes were still rimmed red, and despite her ramrod posture she looked tired in a bone deep way Teagan could sympathize with.  How much sleep had she gotten, he wondered.  It probably wasn’t much.

There was nothing Teagan could do for Alistair.  As much as Teagan was still struggling to come to terms with it, he was gone.  There was no doubt in Teagan’s mind that one of his biggest regrets in life would be not making more of an effort to apologize to Alistair for his mistakes, for his complacency.  But maybe he could help Adessa, and maybe helping the woman Alistair had so clearly been in love with would be enough.

 

*

 

Later that afternoon Teagan made his way to the room Adessa had been using at Eamon’s estate.  He attempted to figure out what he would say as he knocked on her door. 

As he heard the shuffling of feet behind the door Teagan briefly questioned the wisdom of his idea.  It was quite possible Adessa would view his presence as intrusive.  Given that his motivations were at least partially selfish she wouldn’t necessarily be wrong.  Before he could think longer on the subject Adessa opened her door, eyes widening slightly in surprise when she saw him.

“Bann Teagan,” she said shifting to stand a little straighter.  “Is there something you needed?”

 “No, my lady.  I simply wanted to see if you were alright.”

Adessa tilted her head slightly.  Whatever she had expected him to say, it clearly had not been that.  Teagan had to wonder how many people had actually thought to ask Adessa if she was alright.  Certainly no one in Redcliffe.  If her actions there were any indication, she was always the one making sure everyone else was okay.

She chuckled.  The sound was dull and humorless.  “About as well as can be expected.”  At that her eyes narrowed slightly, posture suddenly just this side of defensive.  “I suppose you think I should be happier now that it’s all over.”  The way she said it made it very clear that someone else –maybe more than one someone- had noticed her grief and been less than kind about it.

“Not at all,” he said firmly, and watched as her posture relaxed all at once.  “We’ve all lost something this Blight, Warden.  And Alistair... Well I know you were important to each other.  I can’t imagine what you must be feeling right now, but I know it’s nobody’s place to tell you how to mourn.”

Now that he had gotten started it seemed easier to continue.  “Alistair was such a kind and warm person, he’d always been like that.  I didn’t do right by him when he was a child, which I regret, but I still considered him family.  As inadequate as this offer is, if you ever wanted to talk about what happened to him I’m here for you.  Or away from you if that is what you would prefer.”

Adessa stared at him for a second, shocked.  Then she looked away from him and stepped back into the room.  “Come in,” she said quickly, motioning him towards the room. 

She waited until Teagan had stepped inside and walked further into the room before she shut the door.  Once it was shut she turned around and leaned back against it.  It looked like she was trying to stop herself from crying again, so Teagan left her alone.  He took his time as he walked to the other side of the room and sat down, hoping to give her a moment to compose herself.

Finally after a couple of minutes had passed she let out a shaky breath.  “I hate this,” she said, fidgeting with the hem of her simple linen shirt.  “I’ll get to a point where I can almost accept that he’s gone and then the- the finality of it hits me out of nowhere and I’m a complete wreck all over again.”

She straightened up from her place by the door and walked over to sit in the chair opposite of Teagan.  “I’ve lost people before, so I know that eventually it’ll hurt less, but that just makes me feel worse.  That I sometimes look forward to that point.” 

Teagan nodded.  “I know what you mean.  I keep thinking about all the things I didn’t get to say to him, which makes me feel awful.  Then I get to this point where I’m just so exhausted by it that I don’t want to feel anything, which makes me feel selfish and awful.  It’s really just a vicious cycle.”

“I just feel so guilty,” Adessa said quietly.  She looked up at him hesitantly, and once again Teagan could almost feel the weight of her grief.  The heaviness of it in her gaze enough to make it an almost tangible thing.  “It wasn’t supposed to be Alistair.  It was supposed to be me.”

Teagan was momentarily floored by her statement before he could respond.  “Adessa, I’m sure you did everything in your power to save him.  You were up against the Archde-“

“No, you don’t understand.”  There was an almost manic quality to her voice as she interrupted him.  Almost as if she did not expect him to be able to comprehend what she meant, wasn’t irritated with him for his lack of comprehension, but was frustrated by it all the same.

He remained silent for a moment before venturing softly.  “Would you like me to understand?” 

In the following seconds Adessa looked everywhere but his eyes; clearly torn between explaining whatever it was she meant and keeping it bottled up inside.  “You don’t have to,” he told her mildly.  “I’m not here to try and make you talk about something you don’t want to.”

That seemed to bring her to a decision.  She leaned forward in her seat and once again looked him straight in the eye.  “Only a Grey Warden can kill an Archdemon, and it was supposed to be me.” 

It took a moment, but the reality of what she had implied hit Teagan like a punch in the gut.  “Maker’s breath,” he exhaled softly.  The memory of the elder Grey Warden, Riordan, asking to speak with Adessa and Alistair the night before the battle was now cast in a whole new light.  _They knew one of them might die_ , he thought.

The corner of Adessa’s lip quirked in dark amusement, obviously aware that he had understood.  “Riordan wanted to be the one, but he died before reaching the tower.  He was able to wound it enough to ground it.”  The last bit she added quickly, as if not wanting Teagan to discount Riordan’s contribution to the battle.

“And that left you and Alistair,” Teagan said.

“We were both mentally prepared for that possibility.”  Adessa smiled thinly.  “Apparently we both had similar plans for how we would handle that.”

Now that Teagan knew it had to be a Grey Warden who killed The Archdemon, he was fairly sure he could guess what had happened on the top of Fort Drakon.  “He wouldn’t let you kill it, would he?” 

Adessa looked down before nodding.  How awful that must have be, Teagan thought, for someone who had always done her best to save everyone.  Anything he could say felt like it would be inadequate.  He reached forward, telegraphing his moves so that she could avoid them if she wished.  When it seemed she did not mind he grasped her hands lightly.  “I’m sorry.  For whatever little it may be worth, he probably did it because he loved you and didn’t want you to have to make that sacrifice.”

He could feel her hands shake.  Glancing up at her face he saw that she was crying.  Teagan let go of one of her hands to grab a handkerchief for her.  She took it from him, the small upturn of her lips a silent thank you.  He didn’t push her to speak again, or offer any more platitudes.  Just simply sat there and held her hand as she cried.

“That’s not all,” she said after a while.

He smiled at her encouragingly when it looked like she might not continue.

In the next hour Teagan heard all about Morrigan and what she had offered.  Adessa told him why she turned the offer down –“there would be no way of knowing what that would create”-,how she had been determined to kill The Archdemon if Riordan fell, and the argument she had with Alistair on top of Fort Drakon.

By the end of it she was sobbing as hard as she had been that day outside of Fort Drakon and gripping his hands to the point of pain.  Teagan did not utter a word of complaint.  “But he wouldn’t let me,” she kept repeating.  “I could’ve saved him, but he wouldn’t let me.”

Teagan simultaneously felt hollowed out and weighed down by this whole encounter.  There was nothing he could say that would make her feel better, and he hated being so useless.  In the end he found himself repeating the same words.   

“It’s not your fault.”

 

*

 

“I miss him,” Adessa said later, as if that was what her grief and sorrow all boiled down to.  Her voice was scratchy and rough from all of the crying, and she was obviously still heartbroken -Teagan didn’t think that would go away any time soon, didn’t think grief worked that way for anyone- but she didn’t seem weighed down by it the way she had in the previous weeks, or even just earlier in the day.

Teagan smiled sadly.  “I do too.”

 

*

 

Later that night as Teagan tried to fall asleep, he thought Alistair’s death seemed less senseless to him now. 

Dying for love seemed better than dying for glory.

 

*

 

His hands were slightly bruised the next day.  Small marks a faded, ugly mix of purple and yellow where Adessa had gripped them the night before.  It was as he is examined them with a slight wince that Eamon came into his room at the Gnawed Noble Tavern.

Eamon took one look at Teagan’s hands and rose an eyebrow.  He chuckled quietly and shook his head.  Clearly he had decided he didn’t care to know.  “The Queen has asked me to stay in Denerim as one of her advisors,” he said, not wasting time with pleasantries.

“Congratulations brother,” Teagan said.

“Yes, well, we’ll see how long this lasts.”  Eamon huffed.  “It wouldn’t surprise me if she asked me to leave after a couple of months.  After all, I did try to place Alistair on the throne.”  Eamon still called it _the_ throne instead of _Anora’s_ throne.  It was very likely he would never be completely happy with the way things turned out.  Whether Eamon was happy or not, Teagan knew he would adjust.

Teagan motioned for him to sit down in an open chair.  “Anora’s smart.  Always has been.  You’re too popular with the nobles for her to dismiss, especially with your role in putting Loghain’s treachery to an end.”  Even with the man dead and gone, Teagan still felt a twinge of anger at the mention of Loghain.  He wondered when –or if- that would stop.  “It’s only a matter of time until someone points out that she could have ended that mess a lot sooner if she hadn’t let him name himself regent.”

“As long as that person isn’t you,” Eamon said, shooting him a warning look.  Whereas Eamon was easily adjusting to the state of things at court, Teagan was not having as easy a time of it.  Whatever his crimes had been, the Queen had little patience for those who spoke ill of her father.  It rankled Teagan that anyone should still treat Loghain as a hero after what he had done to Ferelden. 

“He was her father,” Eamon continued.  “She couldn’t have known what he was up to.  Most of the country didn’t know what he was up to.  And once she became suspicious of him she came to us.”

Despite the fact that those words held truth, Teagan still wasn’t satisfied.  “I’m not saying she was complicit, or that I blame her. It’s just…” He tried to find the right words to properly explain his frustration.  “Anora was effectively running this country for years.”  He gave Eamon an unimpressed look when the other man moved to interrupt him.  “We both know it’s true.  I loved Cailan, but he was not the one making a lot of the important decisions.  What I’m trying to say is, she never needed a regent.  Let alone a military hero who didn’t have half of her diplomacy skill.  That she let him make that power grab is completely absurd.”

“That’s enough, Teagan.”  Eamon’s look told him that the subject was closed.  “What’s done is done.  It’s too soon after a civil war to speak of the Queen in that manner.  The war is over.   Ferelden is at peace and once again, it’s up to those of us left behind to build the future.  We can’t do that if we keep asking what could have gone differently.  You understand?”

Teagan sighed.  He hated when Eamon looked at him like that.  More father figure than older brother, it didn’t matter how old Teagan was, Eamon always had the ability to make him feel like a chastised child.  Politics had shaped him into someone Teagan could never be: deliberate, cool-headed, and, at times, downright manipulative.  He wasn’t a bad man.  Never that.  He simply had a patience for political games that Teagan never possessed.

“Teagan.  Do you understand?”  Eamon repeated.

With a strained smile Teagan met his brother’s eyes.  “Yes, I understand.”  He knew Eamon only spoke out of concern, so he tried not to feel resentful about it.

“Good, because if me being an advisor turns out to be a permanent thing I’m going to hand the Arling of Redcliffe over to you.”  And there is was.  The real reason Eamon had stopped by to see him.  He was here to let him know what would be expected from Teagan in the future.  He was too used to this from Eamon to be truly offended or surprised by it.  “As it is, I would like you to stay there and run things for a while.  Isolde and Connor will be staying with me in Denerim.”  _Enjoying the time they have before the templars come for Connor_ remains unsaid but understood by both of them.

Teagan let out a short, amused huff of a laugh.  “Very well, brother.  I’ll leave for Redcliffe within the week.”

 

*

 

Teagan was on his way to visit Connor when he saw Adessa, her mabari hound, and two of her companions outside of Eamon’s estate.  It was the elf he had seen with her several times before, Zevran, and the Qunari warrior, Sten.  Adessa was back in her Warden armor, and the other two were similarly dressed for travel.

It was sad to think that it was very likely he would not see Adessa again –with the Blight over she would most likely have other Grey Warden duties to attend to-, but he was glad that he would be able to say goodbye before she left.  It was Zevran who spotted his approach first.  Teagan couldn’t stop a faint grin when he saw Zevran nudge her squarely in the back and then point towards him when Adessa turned a sharp glare at the elf.

When she turned and saw Teagan she smiled widely at him.  It was far more genuine then anything he had seen from her in the previous weeks, and he was surprised by the wave of relief he felt when he saw it.  After everything she had told him, he had been worried about her.  “Off to another adventure?” he quipped once he was within earshot.

“Duties will call for me eventually,” Adessa said, stepping towards Teagan.  “Might as well travel aimlessly while I still can."

Teagan was surprised those duties hadn’t already come calling for her.  “I thought for sure the Queen would ask you to take the spot as bann of the Alienage.” 

Adessa snorted.  “No. My cousin Shianni will be the new bann.  She’ll be better at it then I would be.  Besides, Anora doesn’t want me around any longer than is necessary.  For once we are in perfect agreement.”

“Surely that is not the case,” Teagan said.  Adessa was the one who put Anora back on the throne, he couldn’t think of a reason for them to be at odds.

“I killed her father.”  Teagan was about to protest, but Adessa held up her hands before he could speak.  “Whatever his crimes, and they were many, he was still her father and I cut him down right in front of her.  I don’t regret it, but I wasn’t kind, and I don’t blame her for any resentment she feels towards me for it.”

Her tone signaled that she was done discussing the subject.  Teagan was reminded of his conversation with Eamon the day before.  It always was his temper that got him into trouble.  “Where do you think you’ll go?” he asked.

Adessa motioned back towards her companions.  “Zevran and I are going to accompany Sten for some of his journey back to Par Vollen.  There’s a couple of routes we could take.  Though I confess my traveling experience is limited to wherever the Blight took us, so I am fairly ignorant of what the best route would be.”

Zevran popped up right behind Adessa.  “We could always chance Antiva,” he said with a sly grin.

Teagan couldn’t really mind that he was clearly missing a joke when he heard Adessa let out a shocked laugh.  “Maybe on the trip home.  Sten has probably had enough trouble on our account.”  The Qunari in question simply grunted in response.

“But Sten,” Zevran exclaimed, ambling back towards Sten.  “Think of the adventure.  The excitement!  Or do they frown upon such things in Par Vollen?”  Sten was clearly used to dismissing the behavior of his traveling companion and ignored Zevran as he attempted to goad further reaction from him. 

Adessa chuckled softy at the display before turning her gaze back to Teagan.  “Any recommendations?  We’ll want to take the scenic route home.”

“That’s good as your friend will probably know a much more efficient route to his home than me,” he answered with a nod towards Sten. “If you find yourself in the Free Marches, I’d recommend a stop in Starkhaven.  It’s beautiful there.  Nothing like Ferelden at all.” 

Teagan was surprised to find Adessa actually listening to his suggestion, as if she genuinely wanted his opinion instead of idle conversation.  It was that which prompted him to continue.  “They have huge fields of these flowers there.  Red poppies.  Some as wide as my palm, and red as your hair.”  Oddly enough, Sten -who had previously seemed somewhere between completely neutral to vaguely disdainful of anything Teagan had ever said in his presence- seemed to be listening to their conversation as well.  “They even have some healing properties, which could be useful to you in your journeys.” 

“Kadan, I did not realize your nobles where so interested in botany,” Sten said, tone somewhere between bored and sardonic. 

Adessa shot Teagan an amused look before turning to address Sten.  “I could not say if this is true of all of our nobles, but this one seems knowledgeable enough.”

“Hardly,” Teagan replied.  “I simply think they’re beautiful.  Much like yourself, my lady.”

Sten looked bored once again while Zevran in turn looked highly amused.  Adessa, however, simply laughed.  “Flatterer,” she said, an echo of another conversation they had once had.  “Very well then.  I will plot a course for Starkhaven.  These flowers better be as beautiful as you say or rest assured you will hear from me.”

“You need no such excuse to seek me out, should you wish to after your travels.  Speaking of which, I probably shouldn’t detain you from them any longer.”  Teagan smiled at her one last time, gave her companions a polite nod, and then moved to walk into the estate.  “Safe travels, my friends.”

As he reached the doors he heard the quick sound of footsteps behind him.  “Teagan!”  He turned around to see Adessa jogging towards him.

“Yes, my lady?”

Adessa looked down at her feet.  “I just…”  She looked up at Teagan and he saw some of that sadness from the night in her room.  “I wanted to say thank you.  For the other night.” 

He held up his hands.  “Please, my lady, I did nothing that is deserving of thanks.”

“No,” she said fiercely.  Her movement seemed hesitant for a second before she was reaching out for his hands, much in the same matter as he had reached for hers a couple of nights ago.  Her fingers brushed across the bruises she had left and she winced apologetically before turning her gaze up to his face again.  “Thank you.”  She spoke the words deliberately, and Teagan could feel the sincerity of them like a weight in his chest.

Teagan thought, not for the first time, that it was amazing how much of other people’s pain Adessa had taken onto her own shoulders.  If he had done even a little to help ease some of her own he was satisfied.  He squeezed her hands lightly.  “Take care of yourself, Adessa.  I’d wager we have both lost enough friends to this Blight.  I’d hate for anything to happen to another.”

Her smile was so sad it hardly deserved the name.  It was the smile of someone who did not have much hope in their future.  “You too.  I’m a little light on friends, and Ferelden doesn’t need to lose any more good men.”  Slowly she took a couple of steps backwards before letting go of his hands.  Teagan tried not to stare as she turned around and walked out of the courtyard.

 

*

 

Life in Redcliffe after the Blight was surprisingly easy.  Or rather, Teagan found that it was easy for him to adjust to the minutiae of life away from Denerim.  The damage that had been done to the village was both substantial and obvious, so he threw himself head first into the various rebuilding projects. 

He hadn’t thought it was possible for him to feel any worse about everything that had happened there, but every now and then something would remind him of the enormity of it all and Teagan would simply try not to get lost in that feeling.  He did not have that luxury.  Not when the people of Redcliffe looked to him for leadership.  He was surprised to find himself so well-received by the villagers, but he dared not question it.

It was their trust in him that he focused on when the grief threatened to swallow him up.  He refused to make their trust ill-placed and thought on what Eamon had said about those who were left building a future.  It seemed a daunting task at first, but Teagan desperately wanted to build a better future for Redcliffe.  He wanted to somehow make it so that nothing like what had happened during the Blight could touch them again.  Which, perhaps, was an unattainable goal but it gave him something to focus on.

In time, Redcliffe began to look something like its old self.  The houses that had been burned down by the horde were good as new, and the Chantry was almost complete.  Teagan had received some complaints when he chose to start rebuilding houses instead of the Chanty, but the efficiency of the rebuilding seemed to have soothed Mother Hannah.  There was even word that some farmers were beginning to move on to the land further out from the village.  Redcliffe was hardly the thriving Arling it once was, but given time it could be.

In the busy haze of all the rebuilding projects, Teagan had almost forgotten that Connor would be taken away to the Circle soon.  It wasn’t until three templars walked into the main hall with purposeful strides that the unhappy reality came crashing down on him.

“Welcome. Is there something I can help you with?” he asked, walking towards where the templars stood in the middle of the room.  Even if it was pointless, Teagan couldn’t help attempting to stall them with the question.  He had never been wary of templars before Connor’s situation, but there had been no confusing the look of blatant distrust on the faces of the templars who had accompanied the circle mages to Redcliffe during the Blight.  If that was how they looked at mages who were saving someone, Teagan did not want to think of how they might look at Connor when not in the presence of the boy’s family.

“We’re here to bring the mage to the Circle,” the templar at the front of the group said.

“Connor,” Teagan added quickly.  “You’re here to take Connor to the Circle.”

The templar did not bat an eye at Teagan’s comment.  It was quite possible he had dealt with less cooperative individuals before.  “Yes,” he said, managing to sound both serious and bored.  “We are here to bring Connor Guerrin to the Circle.”

Though Teagan wished things were different, he knew there wasn’t much he could do at this point to stall.  “Very well then.  If you wait here, I will get him for you.”

Instead of heading towards the stairs that would take him to Connor’s room, Teagan went straight to Eamon’s study.  Eamon had only arrived a couple of days ago, but Isolde and Connor had arrived last month.  “The templars are here.”

Eamon looked up from his work and sighed.  For a moment there was a lost look in his eyes, but then he stood up and walked towards the door pausing only when he reached Teagan.  “Please tell Ser Perth that he, Ser Kassel, and Ser Donall are to accompany the templars on their journey to Kinloch Hold.  If their presence is questioned they are simply to say that they are on their way to Orzammar with a message for King Harrowmont.  Under no circumstances are they to leave Connor alone with the templars until they make it to Kinloch Hold.”  The efficiency that Eamon spoke with made it clear that he had been planning for this eventuality.

“You don’t think they would hurt him do you?”  Eamon had never been one to question Chantry authority, and since templars fell under that he had never been one to doubt them either.

Eamon sighed again, the noise worn out and vaguely cynical.  “I think I’d rather not give them the chance.”

 

*

 

It took fifteen minutes for Teagan to find Ser Perth, explain what Eamon had tasked him with, and then make his way back into the main hall.

It was only ten more minutes for Connor, Eamon, and Isolde to wander down the stairs and into the main hall.  Isolde’s face was a splotchy red from crying, but other than that none of them gave any indication that this was anything unusual or unwanted.

The templars gave him less than a minute to hug Connor and say his goodbyes.

 

*

 

The day after Connor was taken to the Circle Isolde and Eamon left for Denerim.  Teagan didn’t think he would see them in Redcliffe castle again.  He didn’t blame them for it, even though a small part of him felt they were abandoning the village. 

Before the Blight, there had been nothing but good memories here for them.  With all that had happened it was difficult to see it that way anymore.  Teagan couldn’t help but notice how huge and empty it felt.

 

*

 

Another month passed and suddenly it had been almost half a year since the Blight ended.  Teagan sometimes still had nightmares about the Battle of Denerim, but they were not as severe as they had been in those first weeks.  At the time he hadn’t felt that same hope for the future that most people seemed to have.  Now he to saw that the wounds of the Blight were actually healing.

Despite the rough odds, Redcliffe was almost completely rebuilt.  Not only that, it bustled with the beginnings of new business.  The Blight had displaced many people, and for those who were from Southern Ferelden, Redcliffe was an attractive place to set down new roots.

It would never be Denerim or Amaranthine, but Redcliffe was no longer a place to pity.

Teagan made frequent visits to the village.  He even did most of his business at the newly renamed _The Warden’s Rest_ if it involved meeting with someone from the village.  If his laughter was slightly forced when Murdock joked that it was because he was lonely up there in that castle of his, no one had pointed it out.  Teagan thought he at least did a good job of hiding his loneliness.

He had just finished meeting with Murdock about the new budget for the militia and was collecting his things when he heard a familiar voice.  “I like what you’ve done to the place.”  His head snapped up from the parchment he was in the middle of rolling up.  A small wave of hope went through him before he beat it down. 

But then he saw a glint of red out of the corner of his eye, and there Adessa was. 

She and Zevran stood by the bar talking to Bella.  _Her hair is shorter_ , he thought somewhat dumbly before taking in the rest of her.  The red hair which she had kept in a long braid throughout the Blight was now chopped short; the ends just barely brushed past her chin.  As he noticed how jagged the ends were he had to wonder if she had simply hacked it off with a dagger.  Her hair wasn’t the only thing that had changed.  It was the way she carried herself; she seemed less tired.

Teagan finished rolling up his parchment and then walked towards her.  “Back from your travels I see.”

Adessa whipped around so fast her hair flew into her face.  “You shouldn’t sneak up on a lady, Teagan.  It’s rude,” she said, grinning and looking far from offended.

“Forgive me, my lady.”  He affected a look of overblown repentance.  “It seems my manners have deserted me in my long absence from the capitol.”

She shrugged.  “I suppose it can’t be helped.” 

“Enough of this banter,” Zevran said from his spot by the bar.  “My feet are sore and I am covered in an inch of your disgusting Ferelden mud.  If I do not find a place to collapse I shall be exceedingly put out.”

Teagan recognized an opportunity when he saw one.  “You are both more than welcome to stay at Redcliffe castle if you like.  It’s a little further fro-“

“We accept,” Zevran interjected before Teagan could finish.  Adessa smacked the other elf solidly in the chest for his interruption, but Teagan laughed it off.  This was the best news he had had all week.

 

*

 

The walk back to Redcliffe castle was the most pleasant one Teagan had had in months.  Zevran whined occasionally from his spot in front of them, but Adessa asked a million question about Redcliffe and how the people were doing.  In particular, she seemed intrigued by all of the rebuilding they had done.  “I could hardly believe how different it looked.  I almost thought we’d found the wrong village.”

Teagan shrugged.  “With so much damage done after all of the attacks, it seemed more logical to try and build something better than to simply recreate what was once there.”

Adessa hummed thoughtfully.  “My cousin wanted to do something similar with the Alienage, but apparently they just don’t have the resources.”  She said it in a resigned voice, like she wasn’t at all surprised.  Teagan felt a sick, guilty feeling in the face of that.  He hadn’t seen the damage done to the Alienage, first by Arl Howe’s men and then by the darkspawn, but he knew it had been extensive.  He also knew that they had suffered more than just physical damage.  There would be no rebuilding that could fix what the Tevinter slavers had taken from them.

“She could petition the crown,” Teagan said.  “After what Loghain set up with the slavers, she would have more than enough pull to force the issue.  If there was a Landsmeet coming up I would say she should do it there, make it more public, but with enough support behind her writing a proposal and simply meeting with the Queen could work.”

“She could do that?” Adessa asked, eyebrow quirked.

“Oh absolutely,” Teagan answered.  “While Anora was still technically queen at the time Loghain was her regent and therefore acted with the authority of the crown.  In the event that the crown is directly responsible for substantial damage or injury to a community any bann or arl can write a proposal petitioning for recompense.  It doesn’t happen often, most issues get settled at the Landsmeet, but it’s common knowledge.”

Adessa snorted.  “Not so common.  I’ve never heard of that, and I don’t think Shianni has either.”

He got a sick feeling in his stomach.  Something close to shame.  Most of the nobles, like him and Eamon, where born to their position and thus raised to know the ins and outs of the political landscape they would be dealing with.  Someone like Shianni, or most likely any other elf in Ferelden, would not have had that experience.  “Someone should have told her that she could,” he said, resolutely looking in front of him instead of at her. 

“If you would like, I could give you some notes to pass along about how that process would work.  It’d be a little tricky since I’m sure someone will try to make an argument that the civil war invalidates any such proposal, but given that the elves in the Alienage had nothing to do with any of the fighting that logic should not be applied to the situation.  If your cousin decides to go through with it she will have my support.  She could also speak with Arl Leonas of West Hill, he’s known to be sympathetic towards elves.  She could even try Teryn Fergus of Highever.  He’s new to his title, but his family name carries a lot of weight.  His family was murdered by Howe, so he’s been very vocal in support of righting Howe’s wrongs.” 

The weight of Adessa’s hand on his elbow made him pause.  He looked down and found that she was giving him an amused smile.  “You’re going to have to write that all down for me when we get to the castle,” she said.

 

*

 

“I almost forgot.  I brought you something,” Adessa said later that night.  Zevran had retired long ago, but she had followed Teagan into the study –it didn’t seem accurate to call it Eamon’s study anymore, but it didn’t feel right to call it his either- where they spent hours talking about Ferelden politics.  He could honestly say it was one of the few times in his life where he enjoyed such conversation, though he had to admit it was mostly due to the company.  Adessa would laugh and add darkly humorous commentary whenever she found something ridiculous.  Which was often.  It was a nice change, speaking to someone who didn’t hold any lofty ideas about the system and who wasn’t afraid to show it.

Teagan watched as Adessa pulled her pack up from where it rested on the floor next to her chair.  She rummaged around in the small pouch in the front.  “Ah-ha,” she said, seeming to find what she was looking forward.

His eyes widened as she unwrapped the cloth package she had grabbed and revealed a bundle of red poppies tied sloppily together by a brown string.  Teagan gave a quiet laugh of delight as he took the flowers from her outstretched hand.  “Made it to Starkhaven did you?”  He had not thought that she had taken his suggestion seriously, or that she would even remember it. 

She nodded, solemn look plastered to her face.  “A friend of mine spoke very highly of the place.  I thought I should see if he knew what he was talking about.”

“And was it to your liking?”

“Yes, I believe it was,” she said, eyes bright with good humor.  “Seems my friend is not completely full of it.”

Teagan once again found himself laughing.  He didn’t think about how he had laughed more in this one day than he had in the past month.  It was a little sad really, and Teagan had had enough sadness in the past couple of years.  Right now he wanted to let himself enjoy the simple pleasure of good company.  “I’m glad to hear it.”

Adessa’s grin faded into a somewhat sad smile then cleared her throat.  “Did you know that a lot of the poppies where planted in Starkhaven after the Second Blight?”

He shook his head.  “No, I didn’t.”

Adessa swallowed, looking somewhat nervous, before she continued.  “It was part of their rebuilding project.  They were chosen as a way to remember those who had fallen in the Battle of Starkhaven.”  Her lips quirked in a way that Teagan was beginning to recognize meant she was about to say something somewhat morbidly funny.  “They wanted to replace a sea of dead bodies with a sea of red flowers.”

Scenes from the Battle of Denerim flashed in Teagan’s head.  He could see the pile of bodies coating the courtyard of Fort Drakon, could almost smell that disgusting mix of smoke from the burning buildings, mud, grime, and blood.  The silence in the room was heavier now.  The loss of Alistair and everything else clearly on both their minds.  He felt his grief settle in the pit of his stomach; a dark churning mess of anger and sadness he still sometimes grappled with.

But then Adessa smiled sadly and said, “It’s nice, don’t you think?” and it didn’t seem so bad anymore.  The churning feeling in his gut rescinded and the dark anger of his grief seemed manageable again.

“It is,” Teagan said.  It really was a nice sentiment in some ways.  They had taken something horrific, and found a way to remember their loss by replacing it with something better.  At that thought Teagan had an idea.  “We’d have to wait until Kingsway, maybe even Harvestmere, but maybe we could plant some in Redcliffe.”

He studied Adessa’s face, trying to gauge her reaction.  When she looked up at him humor was back in her eyes.  “And you said you didn’t know anything about plants.”

Teagan chuckled.  “I don’t, but maybe it’s time that I learned.”

 

*

 

They talked a lot over the next two weeks.

He was still sometimes surprised by her bouts of quick wit and humor.  The woman he had met during the Blight was always so serious, and the one he had seen right after it had been so sad.  It was foolish of him, but he found himself falling for her a little bit each day.

This didn’t change when she told him about her wedding.  “I think we could have been happy,” she said about her fiancé, Nelaros.  “We had only met that day, he didn’t have to come for me, but he did.  I think I could have been happy with a man like that.”  Then the maudlin quirk of her lips appeared.  “But who knows, maybe the Blight or the slavers would have taken him away instead.”

It didn’t stop when she spoke about Alistair either.  “I always felt a bit selfish for not waiting until after the Blight,” she said.  “It didn’t seem right to pursue something romantic when we had this huge responsibility looming over us, but then he’d go and say the sweetest things and I just couldn’t help it.”  

Teagan offered up stories about his past in return.  Stories about what it was like growing up in the Free Marches when there was war back home.  “I didn’t even know that my father had died until Eamon brought me back to Redcliffe.  And even then it had been so long since I’d seen the man that I couldn’t even remember his face.”

He told her about Farah.  “We almost got married,” he explained.  “I just wanted to tell Eamon first.  He didn’t approve of the match, but I didn’t care.  By the time I made it back to Starkhaven she was betrothed to someone else.  Apparently I took too long.”

Eventually he talked about Alistair too.  “It was the day before Eamon took him to Denerim.  I walk into the castle and saw these small muddy footprints leading to the kitchen, so of course I follow them.  And there Alistair was trying to get this huge wheel of cheese from the top of the cupboard.  When he realized I had caught him he tried to blame one of the mabari.  Still not quite sure how he put that excuse together.” 

Adessa laughed.  “Alistair and his cheese.”

Teagan was surprised to find that thinking of Alistair didn’t hurt as much anymore. 

 

*

 

It was at the end of those two weeks that the letters arrived for Adessa.  One from the First Warden and one from Queen Anora.

Teagan came across her reading them in the study.  Her face was scrunched up in an unhappy scowl.  “Is everything alright?” he asked as he stepped into the room.

Adessa looked up at him, unhappy scowl morphing into wide-eyed disbelief.  “I’ve been named Ferelden Commander of the Grey, which now apparently makes me Arlessa of Amaranthine in everything but name.”  She tossed the letters down onto the desk and rubbed a hand over her face.  “Can they even do that?”

He walked over and sat down on the desk.  “It would seem that they can.”

“But I don’t want it.”  Teagan was taken aback by how desperate Adessa looked as she said it.  “I can refuse, can’t I?”

“Why would you refuse?” he asked, genuinely confused by how vehemently against her own promotion Adessa seemed to be.  There was no doubt in his mind, and in the minds of many others it would seem, that she would make an excellent Warden-Commander.  The Blight had more than proved that.

She sighed and leaned back in the chair.  “I’m a Grey Warden.” She made an expansive gesture with her hands.  “How am I supposed to fulfil my obligations to Amaranthine if I’m a Grey Warden first?”

“If not you, it would be another Grey Warden having to figure out that balance,” he pointed out.

She scowled again.  “At least it would be some other Grey Warden who had more experience under their belt.  I haven’t even been a warden for two years.”

Teagan placed a hand on her shoulder. “Adessa, you’re a hero.  The peop-“

“So was Loghain.”

There was a stubborn set to Adessa’s jaw, as if she dared him to argue against that.  When Teagan simply remained quiet she continued.  “He was a hero and it didn’t stop him from doing terrible things.  If anything it gave him the power to do them.  What’s worse was that he really seemed to believe he was in the right.  I don’t want to be given the chance to lose sight of things like that.”  If it weren’t for how genuinely haunted she looked, Teagan would have laughed.

“I cannot imagine a world where you are anything close to what Loghain became,” he assured her.  When she refused to look up at him he squeezed her shoulder gently.  “It is simply not possible.”

Finally she turned her gaze up to him.  “How can you be so sure of that?” she asked softly.

“You’re too kind, and you care about people too much,” Teagan said without any hesitation.  Adessa looked like she wanted to argue, so he continued.  “Do you remember the day after you first defended Redcliffe?”

Adessa rose an eyebrow.  That one gesture communicating just how unamusing she found that question. 

Teagan wasn’t cowed by her look though and simply continued.  “It was the morning after the battle against the undead.  Isolde had just come down by the windmill to bring me to the castle.  We had no idea what was in there, and we all knew Eamon was who you came to for aid.  I had no allusions about my own importance in the grand scheme of things, so I told you to get Eamon out of the castle no matter what; that the rest of us were expendable.”  He watched as Adessa got a distant look in her eyes, as if she was reflecting on the memory. “Do you remember what you told me?”

Adessa smiled sadly at him.  “I don’t believe that,” she said, repeating the same words she had uttered over a year ago.

“And then you promised me that you would rescue us all.”

She scoffed.  “I shouldn’t have done that.  It was foolish of me to promise such a thing when I had no idea what we would be facing.”

“You’re probably right about that, but that’s not my point.”  He looked her in the eye and prayed to the Maker that she would see the truth in his words.  “You didn’t believe that anyone in that castle was expendable, and you did everything within your power to save those who still survived.  Loghain was never like that.  Eamon’s not like that.  Even I’m not like that.  It would take a lot more than some power to turn you into a villain.”

He watched as Adessa seemed to accept his words.  She exhaled slowly.  “I will have to try my best to live up to that moment,” she said before laughing tiredly.  “Maker’s breath, I don’t know the first thing about running an arling.  What if I’m terrible at it?”

Teagan was relieved.  Tension eased out of him and he stopped forcing himself to sit so straight.  “I’m sure you won’t be terrible, but remember that you have a friend in Redcliffe who would be more than willing to help you should you ever need advice.”  He went to move his hand from her shoulder, but before he could do so Adessa reached up and held his hand there.

He looked from where her hand rested on top of his then back to her face.  The look on her face was serious, but inscrutable.  “If only I could take this Redcliffe friend with me, perhaps it wouldn’t seem so daunting.”

It was with a little embarrassment that Teagan could feel his face heat up in response to her words.  He was far too old to be blushing over a beautiful woman.  She smiled up at him before letting going of his hand and moving to stand up.  “Good night, Teagan.”  And with that she left the room.

 

*

  

Despite the castle being just as empty as before Adessa and Zevran’s visit, Teagan didn’t feel it the same way he had before.  When he went into the study he no longer saw the defeated look on Eamon’s face the day Connor was taken to the Circle.  Instead it was a flash of quirked lips right before Adessa said something irreverent that came to the forefront of his mind.  Teagan would be lying if he said he didn’t miss her, but ultimately it was better than the bone deep loneliness he had felt before she had come back into his life.  This was due, in no small part, to the fact that they were now exchanging letters.

It had only been a week when Teagan received the first one.  She wrote mostly about trying to recruit more wardens and dealing with unhappy nobles.  There was also an apparently abnormal amount of darkspawn in the area.  He felt his stomach drop when he read about the increase of their attacks in the area. 

 

> _It wouldn’t be so difficult to combat if we had more wardens, but the Orlesians were all dead by the time I reached the fort_.  _I have confidence in all of my recruits, but we simply can’t protect everyone.  Which you know I hate.  There were some farms we came across one day.  The darkspawn had already killed everyone there.  It was awful.  This wasn’t supposed to happen anymore.  By now most of the darkspawn should’ve gone back to the Deep Roads._
> 
> _To make it even worse, according to some of the gossip, this is entirely my fault.  I have no idea how they think I would have accomplished such a feat.  Maybe I should ask someone the next time I’m in the city.  What do you think?_
> 
> _Probably that I shouldn’t be so rude to poor unsuspecting civilians.  Very well, Teagan.  I will keep all impertinent questions and comments to myself.  But I’ll also take great satisfaction in thinking them.  You cannot blame me for that._

 

He tried not to worry too much as he penned his response.  If anyone could handle the odd resurgence of darkspawn it would be Adessa.  Instead of focusing on that, he took whatever small measure of selfish happiness their continued correspondence gave him.  It would dishonest of him to say he didn’t wish for more -he had known that since her visit- but he was content with what she had already given him.  Friendship was enough.

 

*

 

A couple of months had passed when Teagan received a letter from Bann Shianni.  To his great surprise she asked for his input and support on a recompense proposal.  It had been so long since he broached the topic with Adessa, Teagan was sure her cousin had decided to go forward with it on her own.  As soon as Teagan sent a response and took a couple of days to make sure everything in Redcliffe was in order, he set out for Denerim. 

At Shianni’s request they met at the Gnawed Noble Tavern.  “No offense,” she had said, tone somewhere between polite and suspicious.  “Bad things tend to happen when shem- when humans go into the Alienage.”

He held his hands up out in front of him.  “Of course, my lady.  I wouldn’t want to make you or your people uncomfortable.”

Shianni narrowed her eyes as they took a seat at one of the back tables.  “My cousin says I can trust you.”  She said it in a way that implied she was evaluating the truth of that for herself.

“I would trust your cousin with my life,” he said looking Shianni in the eye as he spoke.  This woman –regardless of her relationship with Adessa- had no reason to trust him.  Far as he could tell, she had very little reason to trust any human.  He didn’t blame her for it, or take it personally.  He only hoped that she would allow him to help make up for some of the injustice done to the Alienage in what small way he could.  “I can only hope that I have earned a fraction of that trust in return.”

Whatever she heard in his tone seemed to convince her.  “Very well,” she said, unrolling the parchment she had brought with her.  “You can start by telling me how to word this in a way that doesn’t sound like I’m saying the Queen’s father was evil so she owes us.”

Teagan gave a short startled laugh.

Shianni rose an eyebrow.  “I have issues with tact,” she said sounding completely unapologetic.  In that moment Teagan saw the family resemblance between her and Adessa.  It wasn’t just the hair and the eyes.  Shianni had that same irreverent disregard for political correctness as her cousin.  Only she wore it on her sleeves instead of hiding it behind politeness and letting it show only once in a while the way Adessa did.

He shook his head slightly and the leaned over to get a better look at the parchment.  “Then let’s see what we can do about that.  At least when it comes to the proposal.”

They worked for the better part of three hours before Shianni was satisfied.  It was difficult at first, finding a balance between what Shianni wanted to say and what Teagan knew the nobles would want to hear, but Teagan thought they had built something good.  It was just biting enough remind the nobles of their complacency in regards to the poor treatment of the Alienage elves, yet still managed to avoid outright accusing anyone but Loghain and Howe.  Teagan hoped that one day they wouldn’t have to skirt around the issue like that.  Shianni was certainly capable of being a strong voice for her people.  She may not wield a blade like her cousin, but she had that same staunch bravery.

It was after Shianni had left for the Alienage when Ser Derren approached his table.  “Teagan,” he said with a warm smile.  “It’s good to see you my friend.” 

Teagan smiled, genuinely pleased to see the other man.  He had been one of the few nobles from Amaranthine who opposed Howe during the Blight.  “It’s good to see you as well.  How have you been?”

They fell into polite conversation, catching up on what they had been up to since the Blight.  With absolutely no surprise on Teagan’s part, the conversation turned to Amaranthine and its new Arlessa.  “And what do you think of the Warden-Commander?” Teagan asked, managing to sound simply curious instead of overly invested in people’s opinion of the woman in question. 

“She is an impressive woman,” Derren remarked.

Teagan grinned, proud and unsurprised to hear she had made such an impression.  “You would have to search very hard to find someone who disagrees with that statement.”

“Not in Amaranthine,” Derren said, shaking his head and letting out a wry chuckle.

Teagan’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.  “What do you mean?”

Derren looked up at Teagan’s face.  He seemed to take in his expression then turned to glance over his shoulder.  Once he seemed satisfied that no one was listening in on the conversation he answered.  “Esmerelle tried to stage a coup,” he said quietly.  “Even got the Antivan Crows involved from what I’ve heard.”

“What?”  Teagan was shocked.  “If that is the case, why is this the first I’m hearing of it?”

“I imagine they wanted to keep it quiet with the Warden-Commander being so new.  They hushed it up very quickly far as I can tell.”  Derren shrugged.  “But that’s the least of their problems now.”

“An attempted coup is the least of their problems?”  Teagan asked with no small about of disbelief.

Derren gave him a confused look.  “Darkspawn attacked the city of Amaranthine as well as Vigil’s Keep.  The Warden-Commander was able to save Amaranthine, but Vigils’ Keep…”  He trailed off then shook his head.  “That they even held out as long as they did is amazing.”

 

*

 

Teagan set out for Vigil’s Keep the next morning.  The only reason he had waited that long was to let Eamon know he had to cancel their meeting.

Eamon shook his head in what looked like exasperation.  “The Warden’s a fine woman, but she’s not the sort who you can build a life with.”

Teagan thought that statement was absurd.

 

*

 

Even with everything Derren had told him about the attack on Vigil’s Keep, Teagan was surprised by the wreckage he saw when he arrived.  He’d been there once before, years ago, but it was still odd to see it in such a state of disarray.  There were some dwarves already working to repair the outside walls, but the damage that had been done was still staggering. 

When he entered the main area of the keep he saw that most of the houses had been burned down.  Worse were the obvious bloodstains on some of the remaining wood.  It reminded him of how Redcliffe had look right after the darkspawn attack.  Only, it looked as if Vigil’s Keep hadn’t been able to evacuate.

Teagan felt his stomach drop.  Things like this weren’t supposed to happen.  The Blight had ended over eight months ago.

“Can I help you?” a haughty sounding voice asked from behind him.  When Teagan turned around to address the man he was surprised to see a somewhat familiar face.

“Nathaniel?” he asked.  The last place he expected to find the eldest of Howe’s children was here.  Then he noticed the Warden armor.  If Adessa had recruited him, that was good enough for Teagan.  “I hope the wardens are treating you well.”

Nathaniel narrowed his eyes, clearly looking for a hidden slight in that comment.  “Well enough,” he answered when it seemed he had not found one.  Just as it looked like he was going to speak again a voice called out from behind Teagan by the main gates.

“Teagan.”  He smiled before turning around, already recognizing that the voice belonged to Adessa.  She approached them with a wide smile.  The anxiety he had carried with him since speaking to Derren left him.  “I had no idea you would be here.  Please tell me I haven’t missed a letter.”

Teagan heard what he thought might have been an amused snort from Nathaniel, but he was far too busy looking at Adessa to pay attention.  He hadn’t realized what a relief it would be to see her unharmed.  Her hair was long enough to pull back now, but there were still a couple of wild red locks that had escaped her loose ponytail to hang around her face.  She looked tired, but not unhappy. 

“Things have been so hectic here lately with all of the…,” she trailed off then gestured around at the wreckage.  “With all of this. 

Her lips quirked in that familiar way.  “It seems it is my turn to do some rebuilding.  Perhaps you would so kind as to advise me on the matter.”  She held out her hand to him, and Teagan needed no more invitation than that.

“I would be more than happy to, my lady.”  Teagan said as he stepped forward to tuck her held out hand in the crook of his arm.  “Though if you have other duties you need to attend to firs-“

“Absolutely none,” Adessa said, cutting him off before turning towards Nathanial.  “I don’t think there’s much else we can do about rebuilding the houses until we get more funds or supplies.  I’ll talk to Varel about it, but could you please let Anders know that we’ll be making another trip to the city in a couple of days and I’ll need him with me.”

“Yes, Commander,” Nathanial responded.  Then with a polite nod towards Teagan walked away.

Once the other Warden was out of sight, Adessa deflated a little then led them in a slow walk out further in the keep.  Teagan looked over to see the tired slouch of her shoulders.  “I heard what happened,” he said softly. 

Adessa paused for only second before speaking.  “Is that why you’re here?”

“You have to ask?”  She didn’t look at him.  Instead her eyes focused on the wreckage that they walked past as they entered the main fortress.  Her grip on his arm was tight as she led him up another set of stairs and out onto the roof of Vigil’s Keep.  From that spot he could clearly see all of the damage the darkspawn army wrought.  “I just… had to see that you were okay.  I’ve lost too many friends, Adessa.  Before whatever else I might want you to be to me, I count you as such.”

Her hand tensed around his arm.  “Teagan,” she said hesitantly.  “You cannot possibly… I could never be the kind of woman you would want.”

“And yet I’ve wanted you almost since we met,” he replied, not missing a beat.

That stopped her right in her tracks.  She looked up at him and Teagan wasn’t sure what to make of her face.  The expression a strange mix of shock and fear.  Realizing he might have made her uncomfortable, Teagan moved to back away from her.  That only caused Adessa to tighten her grip on his arm.

He swallowed nervously before speaking again.  “Please do not think I’ve come here to ask you for anything.  As I said, I consider you a friend above anything else.  If you do not return my other feelings I will not force my attention on you.  I would never do that.  Simply know that I find you to be remarkable.  You’ve always been so remarkable.”

She thought on his words for a long moment.  Teagan could practically see her building a response.  For as quick as her wit could be, when she wanted to say something important she always took her time.  It was one of the things Teagan admired about her.  She took care in what she said, and she always said exactly what she meant.  “There are things I will never be able to give you.  I have responsibilities to both the Wardens and to the people of Amaranthine, and I can’t promise that I will ever give up those responsibilities to be by your side.”

“As I could not simply give up my responsibilities to be by yours.”  Teagan tries to get ahold of the hope bursting through his chest, but it was a difficult task.  That had not sounded like a rejection.

She looked at his face consideringly before she continued.  “A man of your standing couldn’t possible marry an elf, Hero of Ferelden or not.”  Her eyebrow rose, challenging him to argue against that.

“I’ve lived through a Blight, I think I’ll marry whoever I please.  Though perhaps that is a discussion better saved for a later date.”

The twitch of her lip she couldn’t quite hide sent another wave of hope through Teagan.  “It is very likely that I will never be able to bear children,” she continued.

“At this point in my life I’ve already accepted that I might remain childless.”

Her eyes narrowed and she no longer tried to contain the amused quirk of her mouth.  “You have an answer for everything, don’t you?”

Teagan shrugged.  “The Blight gave me plenty of time to reflect on what’s really important to me.”

“Oh really?  And you decided that rushing to see a friend’s complete and utter failure to her troops was important to you.”

“No,” he said seriously.  “You are.”

Teagan could see her cheeks color faintly as she looked down at the grey stone of the roof and attempted to contain a smile.  Finally she glanced up at him shyly.  “You make it all sound so simple.”

“Perhaps it should be.”

Adessa turned slightly to face him fully then slowly brought her free hand up to cup his face.  Teagan did his best not to lean in to her touch, though he did follow it when she gently tilted his face down to look at her.  “Are you sure?” she asked, voice barely over a whisper.

He didn’t know if she was asking whether he was sure about things being simple, that she was important to him, or if all the things she listed before really didn’t change his mind.  It didn’t matter.  His answer would be the same.

“Yes.”

That confusing look of mingled shock and fear was back on her face, but Teagan was starting to think that it was a good sign.  His thought was proven as she stretched up onto her toes and kissed him.  It was a quick, chaste press of lips; over almost as soon as it had started, but Teagan didn’t care.  For a man who had been content with her friendship, to have Adessa return his affection was staggering. 

She pulled back slightly.  “You are terrifying, Teagan,” Adessa said, and he could not help the loud laugh he let out at that.  The idea of the woman in front of him being terrified of anything, yet alone him, was astounding.

“If you says so.”

“I do,” she stated before dragging him down for another kiss. 

That time it wasn’t so chaste.

  

*

 

When the truth about the losses Vigil’s Keep suffered came out, donations of money and supplies came pouring in.  A couple of years had passed since the attack and Vigil’s Keep was gradually being restored to its former greatness.  If anything, due to Adessa’s relentless research, it would probably end up being stronger than the original.  Teagan could understand her desire to improve on something that had fallen during her watch.

It had been tough at first, figuring out the boundaries of their shifting relationship when their responsibilities kept them away from each other.  Their relationship wasn’t widely known of or talked about, but they never tried to hide it.  Even without the titles, Adessa was a remarkable woman and Teagan refused to let other people make either of them feel ashamed for the happiness they had found together.  Every now and then Eamon made some noise about him finding a wife.  _A proper wife_ , he had said.  Clearly implying that Adessa did not fall into that category.  Teagan happily ignored his brother’s advice. 

Adessa had been hesitant at first, especially when she learned about Eamon’s stance on the matter, but eventually she grew more confident that Teagan would not leave her simply because someone else thought he should.  After that they got better at slotting into each other’s lives.  They hardest part was finding time to be together, but Teagan wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

Adessa had given him more love and support than he had expected to receive, and he tried to give the same to her.  Which was how he found himself planting red poppies just outside Vigil’s Keep last year, and also how he found himself planting more in the same area by the lake this year.  The poppies in Redcliffe had come in nicely, and when Adessa had seen how well they looked had been determined to have them in her arling.  “I will have my sea of red flowers, Teagan.  We earned it,” she had said at the time.  Few of the other wardens shared their commander’s enthusiasm for the project, but they had pitched in occasionally when ~~ordered~~ asked.

Teagan needed no such prompting though.  Which was why he wound up being the only other person helping Adessa that day.  The temperature was already starting to drop, but other than that the weather was unseasonably good.  The sun was out and the skies were clear.  That was about the only positive thing Teagan had to say as he finished covering another row of poppy seeds.  Ferelden was a muddy place, and no matter how careful he had been his shirt was covered with it. 

Adessa sat down next to him on the ground as he finished covering the last of his section.  “That should be good.  By next year they should reach across the whole field,” she said, making an expansive gesture with her arms.  The speed of her movement caused a bit of the mud to fly off from her hand and land squarely on Teagan’s left cheek.

They both did nothing for a moment, shocked into a quiet stillness.  Then Teagan made a face of disgust and Adessa burst into a peal of laughter.  “Oh Maker,” she managed to get out in between laughs.  “I’m so sorry.”

“Funny,” he said, slowly moving to grab a small handful of mud while she was too busy laughing to notice.  “You don’t seem too sorry.”

Her lips quirked mischievously, as she fought to school her features into something resembling sincerity.  “It’s a good look for you, dear.  Very roguish.”

“I’m glad you think so,” he said before moving into her space quickly and dropping the handful of mud into her hair.  Adessa let out an undignified squawk before bursting into more laughter as she fell backwards onto the ground under him.  It wasn’t often Teagan could surprise her like that.

“You monster!”

He moved his hand to cup her face, trailing a bit mud on her cheek in the process.  “That’s what you get for laughing at other peoples pain,” he said before kissing her soundly on the mouth.  She sunk into it without any protest, and Teagan relished the slow movements of her lips against his before pulling back.

She smiled up at him before lightly pushing at his chest. Teagan obliged, moving back to sit down.  Adessa looked over at the wreck that was his shirt then stood up.  “I think I have an extra shirt that would fit you in my bag,” she said, walking towards the tree where they had placed their items earlier. 

“Don’t you dare throw that at me,” he said when he caught sight of the twinkle in her eye once she had the shirt in hand.

“Very well.  You ruin all my fun,” she said as Teagan stood up.  She looked away with an exaggerated huff, and Teagan thought he loved her more in these ridiculous, unguarded moments then he had thought possible.  Loved that they had gotten to this point with each other after everything they had lost.  When she glanced back over and saw whatever his face looked like in that moment she smiled shyly at him.

As he got a little closer he took of his ruined shirt, used one of the blessedly clean spots on it to wipe the mud off his face, then slung it over his should.  Adessa was still looking at him.  With one shift of her eyebrow her look transformed into something sly.  “You know.  If you walk over here a little faster and kiss me, I would feel much better about this not-throwing-the-shirt-at-you business.”  Her cheeks tinged a light pink, same way they always did when she said anything remotely suggestive. 

It was hard to resist her when she looked at him like that.

So Teagan didn’t.

 

**Author's Note:**

>  **Warnings:** Alistair dies at the beginning of the fic, due to potentially canonical Archdemon slaying, and some time is devoted to characters grieving over his death. None of the violence is anything above canon-typical violence, but throughout the fic Teagan will occasionally remember something a little gruesome from the battle of Denerim. Honestly, this fic is a lot less angtsy then it sounds.


End file.
